


Left Unspoken

by littlehollyleaf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Gen, Heartache, M/M, Pain, Team Free Will, Tragedy, i'm sorry i'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-13
Updated: 2012-03-13
Packaged: 2018-09-15 15:37:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9242069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlehollyleaf/pseuds/littlehollyleaf
Summary: In the end, there's only one way to stop the leviathan. But Dean won't let him suffer alone.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. _I'm so sorry_. I was sick. This happened. I don't know. I'm sorry.

**Left Unspoken**

 

"Dean..."

The word's little more than a sigh, passing through chapped lips flecked with blood. But Dean's close enough to catch it, to feel the tremor of fear and longing the name invokes.

He squeezes the hand in his tighter.

"I'm here. I'm here Cas, I'm not going anywhere."

He shifts, leaning forward on his knees to keep his face in Cas' line of sight. Blood seeps hot and sticky through the fabric of his pants but that's okay, that's fine. He doesn't have to be clean. He just has to be here.

Glassy eyes stare up at him, almost too pale to be recognised as blue, and Dean wonders for the hundredth time if this is it, if it's over. But no, Cas' chest still rises and falls—slowly, so slowly—and as Dean watches Cas blinks. Once. Twice. Languid, like he's waking on a lazy summer day.

There's a look of contentment when his gaze finds Dean's and Dean smiles back, even as his eyes burn.

Cas used to be able to do that for real, he remembers. Burn your eyes out.

Dean never saw Cas like that. Not even a glimpse. Just shadows of wings he couldn't comprehend and the aftermath of power he never understood. He never saw the deadly beauty of Cas as he really was, this being taller than the Chrysler building whose true voice could shatter your eardrums and whose true form could banish evil with a thought.

He never saw it.

And now he never will.

Not when all that's left of Cas is this broken mass of skin and bone, chest stabbed and torn, leaking red all over Cas' shirt and pooling out from under him.

"I- I- "

A sick gurgling sound rises from Cas' throat and he coughs. His whole body shakes with it, but not as much as it might. He's too weak now, even for that. Dean rests a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Easy. I got you," he says as Cas spits out more blood. He speaks softly, and commanding, like he can ease his friend's suffering through words alone.

They both know better but this is all they have, so they pretend. Cas screws his face up once, then locks onto Dean's, pretending Dean's touch and Dean's words are making all the difference. And Dean grips Cas' hand tighter, gently wipes his lips clean with his thumb and pretends Cas' pain is over.

It almost is.

While it feels like hours Dean's been kneeling here, Cas stretched out on the cold floor with only Dean's folded jacket as a pillow, Dean knows in truth it can only have been minutes. And all of them ticking away.

But he's not leaving.

No. He'll stay. However long it takes. He'll stay until the end.

"Can I—can I tell you—?" Cas whispers.

"Yeah, Cas," Dean whispers back, voice hushed. Like this is nothing but a private conversation in a public place. Two friends alone together, about to share a secret. _Can I tell you something, if you promise not to tell another soul?_ "Tell me."

Cas tries. His lips move, but the words don't come and a touch of darkness enters his eyes, breath catching in panic. Dean watches Cas' chest flutter, a couple of precious heartbeats skipping. Lost.

He leans down calmly, stroking Cas' shoulder like you might a wounded animal.

"It's okay," he breathes over Cas' cheek, ignoring how pale his friend's face is turning. The faint—too faint, much too faint—feel of Cas' breath. "It's okay, I'm listening."

Turning his head, Dean puts his ear to Cas' lips. He holds his breath. Straining to hear.

***

Against the wall, knees to his chest, Sam watches his brother listening hard to Cas' dying words.

He watches as Dean's lips tremble like they want to smile but press together instead at the last moment, Dean's jaw tensing, eyes closing.

When Cas' hand drops slowly from Dean's, catching on his sleeve like it doesn't truly want to let go before falling lifeless to the floor, Sam knows it's over and he chokes on his next breath. Even knowing it was coming, knowing it _had_ to, the loss is still a shock.

And he's not even the one over there.

He's not the one who held the blade.

He didn't pull back his arm, plunge it in and twist while Cas screamed and clung to Dean's shoulders.

_It's me, don't you understand? **I'm** the source of their power. They live because of **me**._

The bloody thing's not far from where Sam is now - its cruel, curved edge, carved in bone and serrated, still dripping. Dean had thrown it hard and far enough it had hit the wall and bounced off. Had to pull it out, to let the blood. Because this couldn't be an easy end, no of course not. Had to be _that_ knife and blood had to spill. Still warm.

God. They'll need to collect it soon. Bottle it up.

Dead man's blood for vamps.

Dead angel blood for leviathans.

All Sam had to do was watch and he still feels sick.

He can't imagine how Dean stayed there, at Cas' side through it all.

And he doesn't know what they talked about. What Dean was listening for at the end. But as he watches, Dean nods softly. Like whatever it was, he'd been expecting it. Like he's known it all along.

There's a sadness in Dean's eyes when he opens them that takes Sam's breath away. Because it's more than grief. More than guilt and regret over what they've done. It's the look of someone who wanted too much and too deeply. The look of someone who's lost something they never had and knows it.

Sam knows there are tears in Dean's eyes as much as he knows Dean will never let them fall. So Sam blinks some out for him as Dean turns and very gently, like a lover's caress, closes Cas' eyes.

Too far away, Sam can't hear what Dean says when he leans down to whisper words the angel will never hear.

But then, he supposes he doesn't have to.


End file.
